Breadcrumb

Helen Hoyt: Ellis Park

Ellis Park

HelenHoyt

Little park that I pass through,I carry off a piece of youEvery morning hurrying downTo my work-day in the town;Carry you for country thereTo make the city ways more fair.I take your trees,And your breeze,Your greenness,Your cleanness,Some of your shade, some of your sky,Some of your calm as I go by;Your flowers to trimThe pavements grim;Your space for room in the jostled streetAnd grass for carpet to my feet.Your fountains take and sweet bird callsTo sing me from my office walls.All that I can seeI carry off with me.But you never miss my theft,So much treasure you have left.As I find you, fresh at morning,So I find you, home returning —Nothing lacking from your grace.All your riches wait in placeFor me to borrowOn the morrow.